


A Man in Red

by ItheGodot



Category: Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Dick Grayson is Haunted, I love him but come on, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Speed Force is Weird, Temporary Character Death, and Donna Troy is a BFF, by a dumb dead future boyfriend's ghost, don't kill your brother's best friends, there's a part with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22090657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItheGodot/pseuds/ItheGodot
Summary: Using Stone Palm technique, Damian stops Kid Flash's heart in order to break Deathstroke's link to the Speed Force, making the older Wally West vanish. What he hadn't anticipated was that they would not be able to revive him.The time stream breaks and returns the Titans to a world where their friend and boyfriend hadn't existed for ten years. They carry on with their lives... Until one day Dick Grayson realizes he's being haunted by a ghost of a man in a red suit.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	A Man in Red

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a panel in Lazarus Contract, a Rebirth Titans/Teen Titans/Deathstroke crossover.

‘Dick…’ Wally’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, and he felt a tingle of unease.

On a mission, Wally would never use his real name. It wasn’t like they didn’t use their names… Wally was loud enough to put it out both in and out of the suit, and he did not care; but he knew Dick did (mostly, Batman’s hard-ingrained paranoia did), so he was Nightwing to all of them, and his name was a private thing.

With Damian still locked in his grasp, listening to his younger self’s panicked effort and the other kids’ frantic yells, he turned to look over his shoulder, and his insides went cold.

Wally was standing a few steps behind him, looking at his hands. They were _melting_ into the air, his whole body seemed to be fading about the contour.

‘Wally? What’s going on?’ Donna asked him with no small amount of worry. They all followed her look to the Teen Titans, who all crowded around a limp yellow form on the ground.

‘If he dies here…’ Roy mumbled, ‘then he’s never been with us..? All those years..?’

This was it; unfathomable dread in a couple of words.

‘Never been at all,’ Wally looked up, and Dick saw his eyes grow bigger, shocked, no, scared?

He pushed Damian at Roy and dashed to the side of his younger self, who was still bent over Kid Flash’s body with his palms crossed on his chest, still applying compressions on his heart.

‘Switch,’ Dick urged dryly, and the young Robin moved aside. Dick had more body weight and strength, and wasn’t worn down by the mission; he should’ve been able to keep up the compressions _as long as it takes_. Their palms switched on Wally’s chest without losing a single beat.

‘...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…’ Robin was counting under his breath as Dick settled into the rhythm. 

He tried not to look at the kid’s face. It was Wally, his Wally, life draining from him by the second, that face he had seen change from a pouty kid to the shy hot-stuff in his teens (he was at this stage now, wasn’t he, _it showed_ ), to his _beautiful_ boyfriend with a myriad of freckles on his cheeks, pale lashes and playful green eyes, his wide smile that always brightened the room; Wally was the sun, always had been, cheerful and warm and welcoming, always full of life and bringing it wherever he went, _his sun_ … 

‘... twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…’

Dick had seen enough death in his life, he knew what it looked like. He knew; but this was Wally, he had come back from the dead before (technically, he hadn’t died when he was consumed by the Speed Force, but it felt the same), so maybe, maybe-

He tried to ignore the cold fear creeping up his back… Except it wasn’t fear, only Wally’s touch, as he wrapped his arms around Dick’s neck and pressed himself to Dick’s back.

‘I love you, Dickie, I love you,’ he whispered, clinging to Dick’s body with what strength he had left as his arms were vanishing, and suddenly Dick could not move anymore, as the muscles in his arms spasmed, and he froze.

‘Switch!’ Robin pushed him aside again, and Dick dropped on his ass, his hands clawing into Wally’s arms, trying to get a better grip at the body melting under his fingers.

‘No, Wally, no, please, please, no,’ his voice started to crack. _Not again, he would not lose him again-_

‘Shh, bluebird, it won’t hurt, you’ll see, you won’t even remember, you’ll remember nothing, but I just want you to know that I love you, always, I love you, even if I'm not there, now, and even then,’ he gave a meaningful look to the young Robin, and saw the boy’s face break under the collected mask.

Dick knew, it hadn’t been until years later that Wally finally told him, years and years of friendship and quiet adoration, and loss, but from the way Robin almost collapsed on young Kid Flash’s chest, Dick was reminded that he too loved Wally _even then_.

Now it was Roy who pushed Robin aside, but it was too late, Dick almost couldn’t feel Wally against his back anymore.

‘Thank you all for sharing all this time with me, you were all my best friends,’ Wally’s voice was almost impossible to hear now, but they did, somehow, it sounded in their heart of hearts.

‘...love you…’

‘Wally, no!’ Dick half-turned, trying to catch his lover in a fierce hug, hold on to him just for a little while longer - but all he grasped was air. He stumbled to the ground and folded in on himself, feeling a feather-light brush of air against his skin-

And then it was all gone.

He gasped for breath. His lungs seemed to have forgotten what their exact function was, and his eyes pooled up.

He clawed into his hair.

Somehow, something… 

His throat broke with a terrible wail.

He collapsed on the ground, he cried and cried and cried, dropping face down to the earth, sinking his fingers into the wet grass and tearing away at it, his shoulders shaking with impossible tension, gasping for air as the sky seemed to be crashing down on him, suffocating him, he cried and cried-

And for the life of him, he did not even _know_ , what made his heart break so bad.

***

_Are you feeling brave and bold?_

Dick’s eyes shot open, his throat thick with a restrained gasp.

He looked blearily at the ceiling above him; there was a white stripe of light coming from a streetlamp under the window, but other than that, his room was completely black, shadows weighing him down.

His muscles were wound up to the point of snapping, neck and shoulders aching and numb with tension. He let out a weary groan and sank back into the mattress, hoping the ache will dissipate by morning.

The man in red. He came to Dick in his sleep as often as not these days. They weren’t nightmares, really, no, rather bright, warm dreams, the pretty tall red-haired, green-eyed man laughing, talking, _kissing him_. Sometimes they felt so real Dick would wake up panting, with a ghost of touch on his skin and his hand indecently close to his groin.

But they always made him wake up heavy and sad. Tonight, the man in red was following him around on some mission (he knew because he was wearing his Nightwing suit); he didn’t speak much, only smiled a lot.

Sometimes, the man in red reminded him of Wally West - a childhood friend he once had. Wally too used to be all laughs and poses and energy, and a green-eyed ginger, too. He had been a hero, went by a moniker Kid Flash, and used to wear a lightning bolt on his chest, just like the man in red – only his suit had been mustard yellow and ketchup red, and Dick could not fathom where his subconscious got the blood-red-and-silver image from. And Wally never got to grow up. He had been a Teen Titan, and perished on a mission almost nine years ago.

Maybe these visions were his conscience taking him on a guilt trip again, letting him dream of _what could’ve been_ if he had not screwed up so bad. Dick barely remembered what went down that day, all he knew that he never forgave himself. The wounds healed in time, and he just became numb to the memory of his best friend, but sometimes he would remember, and still, still _miss him_.

***

_‘I swear to god, Grayson, if it weren’t for me, you’d probably die of starvation. Worse, you’d probably only ever eat cereal!’ He laughs, shoving a food container into Dick’s hands. Dick shrugs sheepishly. He can’t get his words out, say just how grateful he feels._

_‘Go get ‘em, tiger,’ the man in red laughs again, and pecks him on the cheek, and Dick’s face blooms with a blush. He turns-_

And opens his eyes to a grey twilight in his bedroom.

The clock on the bedside stool screamed a white 04:17. He could’ve slept for two more hours… Now it was gone, oh but of course.

Annoyed and agitated, he pulled a pillow over his head.

It took him just five minutes of staring into the black to give up. He could groan and complain and toss in his sheets as much as he wanted, he was not going to sleep again.

Fine, _fine_. Not like normal sleeping hours were a thing. Mornings were also a good time to get things done, he could go for a run, then have coffee, maybe even make breakfast (yeah, right, that would be the day).

He pushed the pillow away, sat up and rubbed his arms.

Why were his sheets always so cold..?

  
  


The run and the air brightened his mood, if only a little. He took a shower, turned on the radio to the news channel and waded to the kitchen to put on the coffee drip.

The usual container he kept it in was empty, but he knew there had to be at least some coffee left _somewhere_. Making secret stashes had become a life-saving habit.

He opened the pantry and snorted. It was stocked up on weird canned soups, cornflakes and honey rings, biscuits, pop tarts and instant ramen. Didn’t the man in red say he would only ever eat cereal?

He could very well do without his subconscious making fun of him.

But the last pack of coffee was still there, so he could make good on his morning resolution, and also took out the cereals.

Now only to pray to all the deities of the universe that the milk had not gone bad; he did not remember when he bought it.

His prayer was answered, and he gobbled down two bowls; he knew there was still plenty of time until he had to leave for work, but by now he was not sure he could eat cereal in any other way anymore.

Waiting for the coffee to finish, he scrolled through the news feed to see what went down in Blüdhaven overnight. Apart from several burglaries, a few domestic abuse reports and a particularly weird alley mugging of a street performer (no casualties, and the perpetrator took off with only the artist’s two cans of gold and silver body paint), the night had been relatively calm.

Would that he could be in all places at once, and stop it all, and never need no sleep.

He poured himself a cup of coffee, opened the small kitchen window and rested his elbows on the sill. The air was still a little crisp at the beginning of April, and he hugged his cup for warmth, but still tucked his head out. The sky above Blüdhaven was dull grey-turning-iridescent, that fake colour between pink and blue, when the sun looks like it has come up, but not quite yet. Dick liked it, it was a sign for a nice day. Maybe they’ll all be getting their spring jackets out soon.

_‘How do I look?’_

_‘Like a car crash? I’m not going anywhere with you looking like this.’_

_‘I’m original!’_

_‘That’s one word for it. At least take that abomination off…’_

_‘Hell no, I like this jacket! I know you’d like me best naked-’_

Dick shook his head to get rid of the vision. It happened again… He was dreaming awake again.

Okay, so maybe his mental health was never top-notch, but this was already getting ridiculous. These, these _ghosts_ … ghosts of not even a real thing, but _dreams..?_ They seemed to follow him around during the day now. The man in red was _always there_ – behind a fountain in the park, reflecting on a window of the corner store, in a crowd on the other side of the street, flashing in a rearview mirror - always there just before Dick turned to look.

Honestly, by now he suspected he was losing his mind over an imaginary lover(!), and he didn't even mind that much. He’d probably be lucky to _actually_ have someone like him.

An argument down the street caught his ear. It was just some taxi driver yelling at a jaywalker, but Dick was thankful he could turn his attention elsewhere.

He finished his coffee. It was going to be a long day.

***

_'Nightwing!'_

_The ledge crumbles under his feet, but he turns and reaches out, knowing with every fibre of his being that there will be a hand to catch him._

'Nightwing!' Roy screamed as their leader plunged past him. He quickly nocked an arrow and shot a grappler with a steel string down his way; it lodged into a wall.

Dick grabbed on the line, but the momentum was too great and he barely managed to hold on to it, covering his head before crashing through the window. 

He rolled over several times, groaned and remained to lie on the floor to catch his breath. 

Roy appeared in the broken window, sliding down his own line. He dropped into the building, ran up to Dick and helped him sit up. 

'What the fuck was that?!' He hissed. 'You completely missed my mark!'

'I know, I know, sorry,' Dick replied, running his palm over his side. He could feel bruises on his ribs, and the line cut his arms even through the gloves. 

'That was _dumbass_ , not _sorry_. What were you doing? There was no one there!' 

'I know.'

Dick did not know himself why he reached towards the empty balcony.

Well, he knew. The man in red. He was going to catch him.

Fuck, this was dangerous. He was seriously slipping if he started waiting for his fucking imaginary stalker to save him in battle. 

But the absolute conviction Dick had that _he_ would be _there_ was overwhelming. His body moved on its own, as if it was just muscle memory, as if he had done it a million times before. 

'You should call it a night. Donna and I will finish rounding up the last morons.' 

Dick groaned. If even Roy was concerned… 

'I'm okay now. I'll help until we're done. But maybe take a day off tomorrow.' 

Roy pursed his lips but did not argue. 'Let's move then.' 

***

‘I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately,’ Lilith said, nursing a cup of steaming tea, Garth stroking her back. ‘I keep having these… dreams. Strange, colourful, _realistic_. There’s a strange man in them, it’s crazy how much I feel like I know him. But I can’t place it.’

Garth kept nodding in affirmation.

‘When Lilith told me about it, we realized we were dreaming about the same person,’ he added.

Dick hummed, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Couples having similar dreams wasn’t that weird, was it? (Okay, kind of weird, but when was their life ever _not_? Four of them were sitting in the common room of the Titans Tower with hot beverages at five in the morning, and that was _normal._ )

Roy was sprawled on a couch, he was fiddling with an arrow.

‘That man you see in your dreams,’ he spoke casually, ‘is he, by any chance, a redhead? And, like, usually wears a dark red suit with a silver bolt on his chest? Like, you know, the Flash?’

Dick almost dropped his cup. He was standing with his back turned, so no one noticed, but his whole body shook.

‘H-how… How do you know?’ Lilith looked at Roy startled, her eyebrows high on her forehead. Roy only grimaced.

‘Because he sees him too,’ Dick concluded, dragging himself into the common room and dropping on the couch next to Roy. Couples having similar dreams was one thing, but them all seeing the man in red? ‘Uhh, Roy… In your dreams, does he do anything?’

Roy shrugged. ‘Usually, he just stands around. Sometimes talks. I could be having a completely random dream and he just appears in the background. It’s not… nightmares or anything. Just… annoying.’

‘Same here!’ Garth added. ‘First I thought, maybe it was Roy, like, a redhead and annoying, but you are right, he _does_ look like the Flash.’

‘Gills, don’t you dare dream _me_ up.’

Lilith chuckled. ‘In my dreams, he also usually just hovers around. Today he brought me flowers, though.’

‘Should I be jealous?’ Garth glared at her sideways, and both Dick and Roy snorted. Lilith smacked him on the shoulder.

‘Dick, do you see him too?’ She asked. He just nodded, hoping they won’t ask more. Apparently, none of them were being _kissed_ by the man in red. Or they weren’t telling.

‘So, _totally_ a coincidence,’ Roy groaned.

‘Uh-huh. We’ll have to check with Donna, but she’s probably seeing him too. Now we only have to figure out what it means.’

‘What _could_ it mean? If we all see the same man… And we all feel like we _know_ him…’

‘Doesn’t he remind you of… Wally?’ Dick asked carefully.

‘Wally? As in Wally West… Kid Flash?’

Dick nodded.

‘He’s been dead ten years! Some bastard stopped his heart, that ring any bells?’ Roy snapped.

‘Nine years, actually. Of course I remember. But this… This dream… You said it yourself, he looks like the Flash. And a redhead. And we know Flashes can… I don’t know, travel through time? Dimensions? Maybe…’

‘Not if they’re six feet under they can’t.’

Roy’s voice seeped fury. Most likely, he too never forgave himself for that night.

***

‘And where’s the file?’

‘It should be on the dresser under the picture wall,’ Dick replied from the kitchen.

‘What picture wall?’

A shiver ran down his spine again. He slowly stepped into the living room, blinking several times at the grey wall.

He had no fucking pictures.

He had been living in this flat for two years now, but just recently it started looking _different_ all over. Empty, grey, dirty, _wrong_.

‘I… I just started calling it that in my head,’ he smiled sheepishly when Roy cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘I think it would be a good idea to put some pictures here, like, the Titans and my family… I just never got down to it.’

Donna clasped her hands together, ‘it’s a great idea! Can I be your photographer? I’ll help you pick out frames and arrange them!’

‘Great, thanks, Donna,’ he smiled, his look wandering to the wall again.

_‘Why did you pick that one?’_

_‘It’s the only one fair. I look stupid in all of them, at least in this one, you look stupid too,’ he laughs, pinning the small booth photo to the wall._

_‘I also got your scary family from Alfred,’ he adds, putting it up, ‘and my crazy family goes here too.’_

_‘I think that one would look better at the bottom.’_

_‘Are you kidding me? If Damian ever comes over and sees that the Wayne photo is below the Allens, he’ll cut my head off!’_

_Dick can’t hold back a snort. ‘Okay, let’s play it safe then,’ he agrees._

_‘I also wanna get all the Titans together again. I have the old photo, remember, the one we took when we just started out? I think it’s time for a new one. And look, I also found this one of you graduating PA! Look, look at those eyes still young and hopeful, not yet ruined by desk duty!’_

_Dick rolls his eyes, and the man in red steps closer and puts his arm around his shoulders, strong and warm, and he leans in._

_‘Why the sudden interest in photos, though?’_

_‘You know I like souvenirs,’ he mumbles, looking somewhat flustered, ‘I think these are the best ones. Um. You know. Memories.’_

And now the wall looked even emptier than before, and he _hated_ it, and all he wanted to do was smash it to pieces with his bare fists.

_Memories._

Has he forgotten something again?

As the team engaged in an enthusiastic discussion about what photos they should all get, he backed away into the kitchen, stopped by the counter and set his fists on it, taking a few deep breaths.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him!? Moreover, what the fuck was wrong with those visions, why wouldn’t they leave him alone!? What was even the point?! Even if it was _him_ , he was dead, dead, dead! Why wouldn’t his conscience just leave it?

_He even guffaws, loud and ugly and obnoxious, his laughter ringing all over the apartment._

Dick snapped his head to look over his shoulder to where the laughter was coming from, but the kitchen was empty and he ground his teeth.

‘Leave me alone!’ He hissed, curling his fists.

But it was a lie; he did not want him gone, not really. To be honest, he wanted it all to be true so bad, why did he want it so bad..?

He slumped against the counter, covering his face.

‘Dick?’ Donna’s careful voice shook him from the stupor. ‘You disappeared, and we... Are you okay?’

He quickly turned to her, not realizing in time his eyes were wet. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…’

Donna was already gripping his hand. ‘Oh no, you don’t get to _fine_ me looking like that. What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did _we_ do anything? Why are you crying?’

He brushed his eyes with the ball of his palm. ‘I’m not,’ he repeated.

‘Dick.’

He wouldn’t be able to get Donna off his case anyway.

‘Remember how we all talked about seeing the same man in our dreams? The man in red?’

‘Wally,’ Donna said firmly, taking his other hand. ‘You said it yourself. It’s Wally.’

‘Yeah… I think so… Or I’m going crazy,’ he mumbled wearily. ‘I don’t just see him in dreams. I get visions during the day, too. As if he used to live here, in this very flat, I can see it clear as day every time I step inside. He was the one who put pictures on that wall. This kitchen used to be full of stuff because he loved cooking, and we lived here _together_ … I know it’s impossible. I know he’s been dead for years and none of that ever happened! But I see it all so clearly…’

Donna stared at him with her brows high on her forehead, then just pulled him into a strong hug.

‘Hon, you know it’s okay to feel lonely sometimes.’

‘That’s not it. I think I’m losing my mind.’

She stroked his back. ‘We need to get you out of the house.’

He shook his head in abandon, resting his brow on her shoulder. It wouldn’t help, he knew, he tried; last week when he got hooked up with that gorgeous blonde from the bar, and they were hot, and the sex was good - but when they left, it was the man in red who was lying in the bed beside him.

_His eyes dark with lust, the colour of raw malachite when the light falls just right._

***

_‘Put it down, Dick,’ he urges, and his voice is a little hard and annoyed, but also worried._

Dick exhaled. He half-wanted to tell the vision to fuck off, but could not make his tongue turn. Maybe liquor was a bad call. Not only it didn’t help get rid of the ghost; hell, it’s even chiding him now.

He groaned and sagged into the corner of his couch, and let the bottle slide to the ground with a dull thud. What was it he even trying to drown this time..?

He had dropped on the couch as soon as he got in and hadn’t moved since, still stuck in his Nightwing suit, only had the patience to remove his gloves and kick off the boots. His head was spinning and even the twilight was too bright, and the couch felt too soft, lulling to the point of nauseating, but he would not be able to move from it.

He was tired, so, so tired…

The man in red sat down next to him and carefully took Dick’s hands between his.

_‘Sleep now, babe. You’ll feel better tomorrow.’_

Dick could not peel his eyes off him, savouring the ghost of warmth on his hands.

His silhouette was blurred about the edges, but brighter and more substantial than any time before. He must be around his age, and he's so beautiful. He’s smiling, and there are small dimples around the corners of his lips, and a myriad of freckles on his face, and his each move looks so… Painfully familiar. And his eyes are so green _it hurts_ -

Dick even gasped when he felt hot water on his cheeks.

‘Who are you?!’ He whined quietly.

The vision reached out with his hand and brushed Dick’s hair off his face, and there was a tiny discharge in the air when their skin touched.

_'You know me,’ he speaks firmly. ‘You’ll find me, I’m sure of it.'_

The man in red pulled his hand up and put Dick’s fingers to his lips. Dick whimpered again. He could not keep doing this, this, this dance with a spectre, it was a torture, god, worse than any physical pain, and he was definitely losing it - but his arms moved on their own, and now he held that face in his hands, and it could not be more real-

Wally, Wally, he knew, _it’s Wally_ , he leaned down, closer, closer, until their brows touched, and Dick sighed, drinking in his presence, his heartbeat beating in his ears, gazing at his lips with a desperate need-

How can you miss something you’ve never had?

More importantly, how do you stop?

_'I love you,' Wally whispers._

Dick’s eyes shot open, and he felt his heart climb up his throat as the vision melted in the air.

He sank back on the couch and his conscience finally gave.

***

‘Just wanted to check in, are you okay?’

He stared at the boring ceiling, thinking of an answer. How long had he been out? With the way the light fell, he could guess it was afternoon already.

‘Dick?’

Probably took longer than he thought he did.

‘Not really. Gonna barf my brains out.’

‘Amazing, thank you for the image,’ Donna drawled. ‘Want me to come over and bring you some Advil and hangover food?’

‘That’d be great,’ he replied. ‘And why did you assume it’s a hangover? Maybe I’m just dying.’

Now it was Donna’s turn to go silent.

‘It’s a most curious thing,’ she replied after a moment. ‘Remember, you told me you sometimes see that strange Wally’s ghost not just in your dreams, but also awake? I think… I think it happened to me too.’

Dick immediately felt a little brisker.

Not enough to get up or raise his head, though, let’s not go there yet.

‘Are you for real..?’

‘Yes! This morning I was making coffee in my kitchen, and I turned to look through the window, but instead of my reflection, I saw that man we all see in our dreams. He told me you had a bad night and got drunk, and asked me to check up on you.’

_What the hell._

‘Dick,’ she mumbled, ‘I think there’s something going on. Maybe it’s time for us Titans to look into this.’

He hummed.

 _No shit._ He could manage being haunted, but if his friends started seeing the man in red, then it probably wasn’t just in his head.

‘Call everyone to the Tower tonight,’ he asked.

***

‘Donna is right, this is a mystery,’ Lilith commented. ‘Isn’t it weird how none of us remembers what _actually_ happened? We remember that Wally died. And that it happened in Hatton Corners. But I have no recollection of what caused his death, or even if it was day or night.’

‘You’re sure it happened in Hatton Corners? I don’t remember that,’ Donna replied. Dick stared at her.

‘Yeah, it did. At the pier, just next to our headquarters.’

‘I thought it was in the woods behind the old mill?’ Garth chimed in.

Dick frowned. _What?_

‘Who cares _where_. How can you not remember _what_ happened?’ Roy growled, ‘some guy tackled him and stopped his heart.’

‘That may be true,’ Lilith joined her hands together, ‘and if it is, _what guy_? Does anyone remember if we ever found him?’

They all exchanged looks. ‘I think it was some kid,’ Garth drawled.

‘I think there were a bunch of kids there. A lot of people...’ Donna added. ‘I just… I have no idea what was going on, or why. I don’t even remember what kind of mission it was. Do you think… we all just blocked out our memories to deal with the trauma?’

Dick tapped on his chin. Things didn’t add up. Lilith was right, how could he not remember the person who killed his best friend?

‘We all remember fragments,’ he mused. ‘Different ones. What if we could put them all together? Maybe if we could see all the pieces in order, everything we remember, we would learn the truth.’

‘And how do you suppose we do that?’

‘I was thinking… Maybe Lilith… Maybe Omen could link all our minds together?’

Lilith nodded.

  
  


_They plod through the memories as if those are a bog. They’re all blurry and dark in all their heads, and he would not be able to see anything if his life depended on it._

_And who knows, maybe it does._

_He drags his hand across the murk before him - and there’s finally a clearing._

_He could recognize that red coat and that black cape and that domino mask anywhere._

_He almost screams._

_Damian._

  
  


While everyone was still gathering their brains on his couch, Dick was already in the hallway putting on his shoes. Without a word, he grabbed his jacket and dashed through the door.

Donna and Garth were the first ones to recover, they hurried after him into the stairwell.

‘Dick, wait!’ Donna cried out, bending over the railing. ‘What are you _doing_?!’

He must’ve had a manic grin on his face, or something, they looked genuinely concerned.

'I know what I have to do,’ Dick almost growled, stopping halfway down a flight. ‘Damian was there, you saw him! I need to find the Flash. I need to know what happened that night. If Damian really was there, and that was ten years ago! It means…' 

'It means we might be dealing with time travel.' Garth concluded. 

'And if it's time travel, nine times out of ten there's a Flash involved. And paradoxes. Maybe, maybe…'

'Maybe something _changed_.'

'Are you saying… Wally was not supposed to die there?' Donna mumbled.

'I don't know! I don't know. I just know that we all see the same grown-up Wally in our dreams and I need to know what it means. What he means.' 

_Are those words true._

'Of course, Dick. We all want to know. And if there is a way to go back… we're all going, wait for us.'

* * *

He tore his eyes open and darted up in his spot panting. Barry gripped his shoulders.

‘Hey, hey there,’ he tried calming him. ‘You’re back, you’re okay.’

Dick stared at Barry.

‘Sure? And Wally?’ He asked. ‘Did we… did it work? Is he..?’

When he was blasted away from that night in Hatton Corners by a fierce tide of the time stream, Kid Flash was still slumped lifeless on the ground, and Dick did not know if they managed to save him - or did they just make everything worse.

Barry shook his head.

‘I don’t know,’ he mumbled. ‘I was returned to this very spot we left from, just moments before you, and I don’t know…’ He gazed through the window. ‘Everything looks the same, but maybe it doesn’t mean..?’

Dick glued his palms to his mouth and gasped for breath.

If it didn’t work, if Wally was still gone… 

He had seen the man in red - Wally - back there, the actual blood-red-and-silver suit, real as rain, and the way he held onto _him_ … Well, his alternate self, just a little different. And there really was something between them, something, right? Besides terror in both their eyes...

He had seen _them_. He knew now where all his visions had come from.

He rubbed his face and stood up.

‘Dick…’ Barry tried reaching him again. Dick loved Barry, he was one of the good guys, and after what happened to Wally, he had always been looking after the Teen Titans for years now, and they could always turn to him for help… ‘You okay? I can run you back to your place.’

But if they did not manage to change the past, there was no other way it was going to help.

‘There’s no need to, I’d rather go by myself. I think… I need to think. Thank you for this.’

‘Kid…’

Heh. He still called them all kids, ever since they were, but unlike other old-timer heroes, his never felt condescending.

‘I’m good. Promise,’ he made smile. Barry returned it.

‘Okay. You call me if you learn anything.’

‘Yeah, thanks.’

***

He took the long road. Even after he teleported back to Blüdhaven, he did not turn home, instead letting his legs carry him to the piers near the Drawbridge, crossing the streets without even looking.

He tried to bring the image of Wally's face to the surface of his thoughts, but it kept escaping him. If it had worked, he would know what his face looked like, wouldn't he? His memory was empty. And for the first time in a long time, all the while he walked, he had not seen a single vision.

What now? _What now?_

When he dragged his feet back to Lower Melville, the sun had already set. The streets got crowded, and he bumped into people several times, but barely had the attention span to apologize, all the while seeking hints, or flashes, or reflections.

Nothing.

So he lost both the real Wally and now the man in red, too.

He should go home. Get his Nightwing suit on and get on patrol, by the looks of it, the night was going to be busy. Or he could try drinking again, last time... Last time he could see him so clearly.

No, wait, damn it, Donna poured all his whiskey down the drain.

Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe now he would be able to get on with his life without visions and stupid dreams, focus on the important things and forget everything that wasn't real.

He realized there were tears in his eyes. He wiped them with the palm of his hand, but they kept pooling up again.

He picked up the pace, forcing through crowds on the sidewalk, running faster and faster as if his feet could break him away from the dull ache in his chest. _He didn't want to know it! Leave him alone, and good riddance, that was never real, all a lie, a lie, a lie..!_

Covering his staircase three steps at a time, he rushed up to his floor and almost crashed into the door to his apartment, fiddled clumsily with his key and stumbled inside. He clicked the door closed behind his back. By then his legs threatened to give out, so he rested against the door, covering his head with his arms. The hallway was dark, the greyness exhausted him even more, and he closed his eyes.

Only then his ears registered a noise somewhere in the apartment; it was coming from the kitchen.

And it smelled like… curry?

His heartbeat immediately picked up.

‘Hey, babe, you’re just on time, dinner’s ready!’

He looked around the hallway.

There was a colourful pile of worn-down sneakers in the corner, not just his sad pair.

There was a red sports jacket on the rack which surely wasn’t there yesterday.

There was a pair of keys pinned to the wall, headphones hanging on a hook, and when he looked further into the apartment, he could see _pictures on the living room wall_.

Something cramped in his stomach.

‘D?’

And there he was, a red shock of hair poking out of the kitchen doorway, a soft flush on his cheeks from working by the stove, wearing a washed-out pale yellow t-shirt and black basketball shorts and a kitchen towel on his shoulder, a confused look on his beautiful freckled face, and all of a sudden, Dick did not know how to speak anymore, no, not even how to breathe. He pursed his lips to keep them from shaking.

‘Wa- Wally?’ He breathed. Wally looked concerned now, he dropped the towel and stepped into the hallway.

‘Man, what’s going on? Are you okay?’

He reached for him.

_Zap._

Ignoring the sharp sting from the bolt that just electrocuted him, Dick launched himself at Wally, pulling him into the strongest hug, but still it did not feel enough, he wanted, _needed_ to have him closer, all of him, drown himself in his warmth, his smell, his arms, how would he ever get enough-

Wally hugged him back, tenderly running his fingers up to his neck and sinking them into his hair.

‘Hey, hey. It’s okay,’ he mumbled, ‘you’re okay now.’

Dick only hummed, burying his face on Wally’s shoulder. With the electric discharge, the mash that had been his memories was all clicking into place, replacing the nine years he had spent without Wally with all the moments that had him. They stood still for a long minute, silent, Wally rubbing his back and Dick only trying to keep his head together, because he wanted to cry, and scream, and laugh, and cry again, all at the same time. Wally’s t-shirt felt so soft under his cheek, and his heartbeat, his heartbeat-

‘Wow, Mr Nonchalant,’ Wally mumbled, smiling and rocking him slowly.

‘Shut up.’

‘It’s not me who’s mushy.’

Dick clawed tighter into the t-shirt on Wally’s back. ‘I just had the longest dream. A nightmare. It feels like I haven’t seen you in ten years.’

‘I’ll give you ten hours at most, but keep talking, silver tongue,’ Wally sniggered.

Dick nuzzled the side of his jaw.

‘I love you, Wally, you know that?’

Wally gripped him tighter around the waist, pulled him up and spun him around, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

‘Of course I do, sap,’ he said, putting him down and kissing him on the brow, leaving Dick red-faced. ‘It’s how I knew you were going to find me.’

Dick huffed, but then Wally’s words replayed his head, and he felt a cold surge in his stomach.

‘You… knew?’ He pulled back to look at his face. Wally raised his eyebrows. ‘Knew what? Do you mean that… it wasn’t just a weird dream? It was _real_?’

Wally grimaced. ‘Dick, it’s stupid…’

‘No, tell me. To us, you were _dead_ , you were- Was it _real_ to you?’

Wally realized he screwed up by opening the topic, but there was no way out of it now. He moaned.

‘They’re all _real._ C’mon, it’s Speed Force. No one knows how it works, but when you’re connected to it… they’re all real. You can see many realities, all pasts and presents and futures, so many beautiful worlds, all at once. It’s why it’s sometimes so hard to come back. You get lost, you don’t always know… which one is the world you’re supposed to return to.’

‘Then how do you _know_? How… did you return _here_?’

‘That’s where _you_ come in, dumbass,’ Wally beamed, poking him on the chest. ‘Haven’t I told you? You’re my lightning rod. You’re the one who draws me. As long as you’re there, as long as you…’ He stuttered and Dick watched his face turn red, and he turned his eyes down, but kept smiling, ‘as long as you want me to return, I will. No matter how far gone, I will find my way to you.’

Dick swallowed a ball, feeling water pool behind his eyes.

‘I had forgotten you.’ He muttered.

‘Dick, don’t.’

‘No, I… I’d forgotten you, _again_!’ He whined, and squirmed, and tried to pull away, but Wally didn’t let him, he gripped him by the waist and, before he could escape, pushed him against the wall.

‘Don’t even start!’ He raised his voice. ‘How else can I spell it to you? You are the reason I’m back, you, you, _you_!’

‘But I didn’t even know you at first! It took me forever to realize..!’

‘Because that’s how paradoxes work! You were living in your normal reality! It wasn’t _your_ fault your dumb dead future boyfriend’s ghost wouldn’t accept it.’

Dick snorted, sniffling at the same time.

‘Listen, if you hadn’t remembered me, if I didn’t mean anything to you, I wouldn’t’ve been able to haunt you. But I could, your subconscious let me in, I could reach you - even in a world where you hadn’t known me for ten years. If that doesn’t tell you how important you are, how important _this_ is,’ he pointed there and back between their chests, ‘I don’t even know what else I can say.’

Wally still had him backed against the wall, holding him down with one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest, gripping his jacket.

His eyes were burning between anger and desperate persistence.

So close, not close enough.

Dick let out a small sigh and smiled, putting his hands on Wally's neck. ‘Say nothing,’ he muttered. ‘Just let me kiss you.’

**Author's Note:**

> I love having vacations and getting inspirations in the middle of the night.


End file.
